


Little Things Mean A Lot

by Bridget Cochran (PK_preservation_project)



Series: Really, Harry? [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PK_preservation_project/pseuds/Bridget%20Cochran
Summary: Tom counts his blessings at Prixin.





	Little Things Mean A Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Leigh, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [P/K All the Way](https://fanlore.org/wiki/P/K_All_the_Way) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [P/K All the Way’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/pkalltheway/profile).
> 
> ====
> 
> Warning: This story involves men in a strong and loving relationship. If you do not go in for something like that, move along home.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest. Archive anywhere, PacKage, R'Rain, BLTs, AllSlash, ASC, et al.
> 
> Yes. This is a song story. I'm suffering under the delusion that I can do this subgenre. This Tom and Harry came together in 'Really, Harry?' somewhere during the second season and have been together ever since. In this story, Tom feels lucky.

\---

Tom sat back in one of the chairs near the bar. He had arrived at the resort early and commandeered the table to wait for the rest of the crew to arrive. The holiday celebrations were starting early and Neelix was doing Prixia at the resort this year. Tom sipped his beer and watched the Gamma shifters in their revelry.

It was good to be off duty for a few days. He'd worked like crazy these past few weeks on the Delta Flyer. Yah, they had good results with it on the first flight, but so much had to be refined. Harry had worked with him side-by-side on it a great deal. But now B'Elanna was on required medical leave to deal with her depression and Harry was spending a ton of time covering for her down in Engineering. And there were the couple hours a week Tom still worked in Sick Bay. Shit, some days the only time they met was in bed or in the bathroom.

Not that meeting Harry in bed was bad. It was kinda wonderful, but he missed Harry out of bed, just hanging out.

Harry had commed him at 1600, like he commed him everyday at 1600. 

^

"Kim to Paris."

"Paris here."

"You going to the first night of Prixia at the resort?"

"I don't know. Thought about a nice quiet night at home."

There was a pause.

"It would mean a lot to Neelix if we were there."

Shit. It would mean a lot to me to stay home with you. Tom kept quiet. "I'll be done in Sick Bay in a half an hour. I'll change and see if there's anything I can do to help Neelix."

"Great, I'll be there as soon as we isolate this process flux in the bi-tertiary links." 

^

Tom knew that isolating a process flux could take several hours. Harry wouldn't give it up until it was isolated and righted. B'Elanna told him that was the one down side to loving an engineer. The upside was that your replicator always worked.

From his vantage point Tom saw Harry the minute he walked into the room. If the pilot didn't sigh out loud, he sighed in his heart. A smile broke out as he watched Harry scan the room for him. The ensign was not looking very Starfleet in his black pants and loose spice brown tunic tucked in at the waist band of the slacks. No, he might not be looking Starfleet, but he looked better than fine to Tom.

When his lover finally found him, Harry caught the smile and blew a light, mocking kiss in his direction. Picking up a tall, sweet drink at the bar, he made his way to the sprawled blond.

"You look wonderful," as he bent to kiss Tom on the forehead, a quick peck that marked his territory. Tom hurumphed in dismissal. He had on his jeans and sneakers and a very old, very worn tee shirt. When Neelix said casual, Tom took him at his word. He didn't realize casual meant dressy casual. The only reason he didn't go back home to change was the knowledge that once home, he wouldn't want to come back out. So, there he sat, underdressed and undercaring.

"Harry, Harry," came a chorus of female voices from across the veranda. Tom swallowed, to keep from really cringing. The Volleyball women. They might be holographic, but he swore that they were sentient enough to keep Harry from him on purpose. "We were worried when we saw him and didn't see you." Him. The shapely faux women hated him. He stood between them and 'their' Harry. They stood all luminescent and half clad, expectantly holding a Volleyball out to the man of their limited dreams.

They knew they had him. Harry could not resist a game of Volleyball. Tom knew he could resist their feminine wiles much more easily than he could resist the ball they held like a carrot to the ass--er, donkey, that grinned at them stupidly. At least he hoped Harry could resist their feminine charms. They _were_ only holograms, after all.

"Do you mind?" Harry stood looking down at Tom, willing Tom not to mind.

The older man shrugged, "No, go ahead. I'll be down as soon as I finish my beer." He picked it up to hide behind a sip. Harry's smile was radiant. How could he say no to that smile? Harry moved away from the table, but not before running a gentle hand over the soft hair at the back of his head. It was a soft gesture. So much like most of Harry's gestures. Small, unobtrusive, but uncannily reassuring to Tom. Harry knew Tom so well.

Over the rim of his glass, Tom watched Harry move away toward the beach Volleyball court, engulfed by his avid teammates, impeding Tom's favorite view: that cute little backside. Evil, holographic witches. He was sure they did it on purpose.

Who could blame them? Harry was something pretty special, and Tom wasn't just lucky, he was blessed.

In those few hours with Sam Wildman and Tuvok under the planet that was too soft to handle the Delta Flyer, Tom was so damn scared. Harry had sent him messages every day, usually two while they were on the mission. Mundane missives about the news of the day, to be ended with an I love you and I miss you. Those notes were his addiction. He needed them like he needed air. As much as he respected and, yah, loved, Tuvok and Sam, they weren't Harry. Nobody was Harry.

He remembered the off-hand message he had sent to Harry. Some shit about no more pizza crusts in bed or something. He honestly didn't remember, his mind was not accepting that he wasn't going to see Harry again. As soon as they got the DF into the Shuttle Bay, he deleted the sucker. He hated to think about dying somewhere Harry wasn't. About not having Harry be the last thing he saw in life. He shivered at the prospect, and shook the morbid thoughts once again from his mind.

Beer done, Tom made his way to the Volleyball game to stand watching Harry unabashed and unimpeded for a few minutes before the sides were out. Harry's hair stood straight up, his shirt tail was out and it's silky fabric clung in sweat damp spots here and there. Tom wanted to groan, he looked so good.

His face must have shown his desire because when he finally caught Harry's eye, the ensign's smile was THE smile. The one that Harry saved for him, just for him. It was the smile that said 'I'm on your wavelength, Tom.' Tom could read a lot into that smile. To him, tonight, it was a promise.

As soon as the game was over, Harry excused himself, to the loud protests of the women. Harry was firm in his refusal to continue, extricating himself ungracefully. Tom was sure there would have been tears, until Seven stepped forward volunteering to substitute. Just fueled Tom's viewpoint that women are fickle.

Harry shook his head at his sudden freedom, and grasped Tom by the hand to pull him up the steps and back onto the veranda. He didn't stop pulling until they were on the lift where he was pulled into Harry's arms.

"Thanks for letting me play Volleyball," Harry said from a point very close to Tom's ear.

"Sure," Tom whispered, his hands moving under the loose shirt tail to cup the tight butt. He pulled Harry into his groin and began a slow, sensuous grind. He arched forward when the tip of a very skillful tongue rimmed his ear lobe.

Harry smiled and pushed Tom off, grinning broadly at the pink flush and deep gulps for air the blond took in an effort to steady himself standing upright. The lift opened to their deck.

"I have something for you for the first night of Prixia," Harry announced after he called for the lights in their cabin.

Tom propped himself on the wall to kick off his shoes. "Harry, I told you I didn't want you to waste replicator rations on me."

"But it's Prixia," Harry said as he walked through to their bedroom.

"I don't care," Tom said as he pulled his tee shirt over his head, he tossed it at the refresher as he toed of his socks. "The only thing I need or want is you."

He turned to see Harry sprawled in the middle of their bed, propped on his elbows, a very noticeable bulge right where it should be. The smile on Harry's face was at once understanding and incredibly sensual. His eyes were dark with the passion that never seemed to die, and a love so deep that Tom was humbled.

"Aren't you going to unwrap your gift?" was all the invitation that Tom needed.

\---

'Little Things Mean A Lot' was originally sung by Kitty Kallen in the '50's or '60's. The version I'm familiar with was Sammi Smith's cover in 1978. That's when songs were songs and female country singers rarely wore their own hair--nobody's hair could be that big or that hard. (I guess that could be said for a lot of things.)

Now, here are the lyrics. Tell me how I did.

 

Little Things Mean A Lot

Blow me a kiss from across the room  
Say I look nice when I'm not  
Touch my hair as you pass my chair  
Little thing mean a lot.

Give me your arm as we cross the street  
Call me at six on the dot  
A line a day when you're far away  
Little things mean a lot.

Don't have to buy me diamonds or pearls  
Champagne, sables, and such  
I never cared much for diamonds and pearls  
'cause honestly, honey, they just cost money.

Give me a hand when I've lost the way  
Give me your shoulder to cry on  
Whether the day is bright or gray  
Give me your heart to rely on.

Send me the warmth of a secret smile  
To show me you haven't forgot  
For now and forever, that's always and ever  
Honey, little things mean a lot.

 

(That's it, thank you for your attention)

\---

End


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